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12 November 2012

Love and Empty Cereal Boxes

If you haven't noticed by now, I'm not a terribly romantically inclined person. I do not talk about fairytales or happily ever afters in relation to my marriage, nor do I refer to Angel as "my better half." That's just not me. Angel was my first boyfriend, and by the time he came around, the rest of my family were completely shocked that I actually liked him and, you know, was nice to him and kissed him and stuff. That was not the Rachel they knew. Angel is, admittedly, a special case for me, but our relationship has never been characterized by a whole lot of overt romance.

This photo could aptly be captioned: "Being Weirdos"

But today, I stood at the top of my basement stairs, and tossed a couple cardboard boxes down with all my might in the general direction of the recycling area, and I felt loved by my husband. The fact is, I really don't like going in the basement. We have one of those evil basements, just chock full of spiders and mice and dirt and rocks and antique things that I have no idea what they are supposed to be used for. I don't like going into the basement, so, unlike a normal, sane person who would take the recycling down to the basement in a civilized manner and stack it or put it in a bin--I regularly stand at the top of the steps, chuck the recycling down the stairs, and run back to the safety of the main floor of our house as fast as I can.

And you know, I think it could be pretty annoying for the one who actually has to deal with the recycling to be faced with boxes and bottles scattered haphazardly at the bottom of the basement stairs rather than a normal, organized pile of stuff to be recycled. It's Angel's job to get the recycling out of the house, and you know what? Not once has he yelled at me, gotten angry, or even brought up the fact that I 'sort' recycling like a crazy person and that it would make his job easier if I would simply walk down the stairs and stack up a few boxes. I mentioned it to him recently, something like, "Hey, thanks for never being annoyed at me because I throw the recycling into the basement and make a mess."

And Angel said, "Oh, it's okay. I know you don't like to go down there--it doesn't bother me at all, you can keep throwing the recycling down anytime you want to."

I love that he gets me, and that he gives me the freedom to indulge my little insanity in the case of the basement and recycling. That's the kind of love that inspires me to maybe, just maybe, get over my intense hatred of the basement and walk down the stairs to tidy up the recycling area occasionally.We'll see.

13 comments
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Now that's a love story! Having been married for 14 years myself, I know that it's truly the little things that matter. My hubby does the stuff I hate to do and never complains. We balance each other out really well. You and Angel are ridiculously cute together.

This is such a sweet post. I really do think the little things are what matters in love--they don't have to be typically romantic, but they're the fact that when you love someone, you want to do things that make the other happy, just as you and Angel clearly do for each other :) Not romantic shmantic ;)

This is so ROMANTIC Rachel. Love is so pure and attractive, you are blessed with a good man, and he loves you into getting out of your comfort zone and into the basement... Thanks for sharing.Visiting from Matrimonial Linky, have a super blessed day!Love

Haha! To funny! I think though, the true romance is genuine acceptance and love of each other. To me that's romantic, and I would know lol. Hubby doesn't have a much of the fairy tale romance in him at all. But in the same way you feel loved by Angel, I feel the love of my hubby, in his acceptance of the crazy person I am!

Hello, I'm Rachel. I enjoy colorful hair, quirky fashion, and correct grammar in multiple languages. My heart belongs to a man named Angel and the families we share. We love our community in Southeast Asia and live for the God who loved us first.